


有用 (Useful)

by missmollyetc



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen, Post-Serenity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-04
Updated: 2010-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jayne is a man who faces the practicalities of a situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	有用 (Useful)

**Author's Note:**

> All Chinese phrases come from [the Firefly-Serenity Chinese Pinyinary](http://fireflychinese.kevinsullivansite.net/), and were used in _Firefly_ , _Serenity_ , or the novelizations thereof. Title was translated at [Free Translations.net](http://www.freetranslations.net)
> 
> Prompt: This was written for [stele3.insanejournal.com](http://stele3.insanejournal.com) who wanted "Firefly-'verse, post-movie, in which Jayne is the one who goes up to the cockpit to get Wash out, with an assist from River." I'm sorry, this isn't exactly what you had in mind, I believe, and you had to wait a long time to get it.

Jayne stepped up over the threshold to the flight deck, and stood in the doorway, tucking his thumbs into the back of his pants. He sniffed, and licked his lips, wrinkling his nose as he looked to the floor. Tzao-gao. Tzao-gao.

It weren't like he'd expected, to be rutting factual. He'd seen them hwoon dahn Tong Meng working their pasty asses off, but in his head it hadn't stuck. Not really, even though they all knew full well the Alliance were good for one thing and not much for that, moppin' up the shit they done that got decent folk sent to hell. But the flight deck looked like it'd come straight off the assembly line, not a corpse, nor a broken wire to be found. Smelled like industrial soap all the way from the chair that weren't Wash's to the scraped up metal flooring that didn't have a lick of Wash's blood on it, 'cept in the corners that were hard to get to when a creepifying man with a sword was staring down your fish-belly pale neck.

Somethin' funny about that. Somethin'…fong luh, and Jayne wasn't in the business of anything ruttin' crazy. He come up from his bed with a purpose, Lord take it, and now…didn't seem right that no one crew had laid hands on Wash's remains, cleaned his blood and shit off the decks themselves. Didn't seem right for the pilot's station to be so newly minted.

It weren't a comfortable feeling, and Jayne cleared his throat, feeling the blood rush up to warm the backs of his ears. Ma had raised him practical, made him practice what she preached on the idea that what had worked when she roamed the black would work for her youngest, and up until the moment he took it into his head to trade his service for a bunk of his own and pride of place for Vera, it'd all come out like she'd said it would. He'd kept his head down, his fists up, and the money had come in, hand over pistol. Until the Captain and Zoe, of course, and Jayne had long since gave up believing in anything, but that crazy must've been catching the day he'd signed on. It didn't make life no easier, but it made for an easy explanation come his yearly wave back home.

Jayne moved closer to the new pilot's station, and covered his face with one hand, and rubbed his palm against his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut. Tzao-gao. He'd expected…them rutting toys were gone. He hadn't…of course Wash'd had a ruttin' ship winch stuffed up his insides, of course his go se dinosaurs wouldn't be there, on the console that Wash'd never touched, or next to that rutting chair that Wash hadn't never sat in, nor ever would. They were probably so much space crap, pulverized on impact. Go hwong-tong.

He took a step forward, regardless, and dropped his hand to his side. The soap smell in the air burned the back of his throat, like the bleach Ma'd washed out their bandages with come changing time. He flexed his hands, empty, and looked around at the perfectly repaired flight deck. It rutting gleamed.

"Wo shang mei er, mei xin, bian shi tou," River said behind him. "I know, I remember."

Jayne whirled so fast, the heels of his shoes squealed, while he put hand to pistol, and gripped the butt tightly. "Damn it, girl!"

River shook her head, the long, stringy bits of her hair sliding against the silk of the robe she was wearing. It looked fancy enough to be Inara's, but the hem was ragged, cut off at the knees, and the shirt she wore beneath it were her brother's.

"They put them in their box," she said, frowning. "Left the box on an island. I heard the roaring."

Her hands were behind her back. Jayne raised his free hand and pushed at the air in front of him. "How about you keep all that roaring _in_ that box, all right?" he asked, stalling for time.

Damn it, if the rutting Doc was too occupied in Kaylee's nethers to make sure his crazy sister wasn't going to kill them all, then what was the rutting point of surviving at _all?_ He glanced over River's thin shoulders, but saw no one.

"Just us chickens," River said, and walked forward, graceful, like she was about to run at him and murder him with a Reaver's ax.

Jayne took another step, and ran up against the back of the pilot's chair. He raised his chin, and tightened his grip on his pistol. He'd never named this one—always thought he'd have the time—but him and Nameless would have to do, if River was gonna try and kill him tonight.

Her shoulders twisted, up, down, and back, graceful as a cat before she got out her claws and Jayne narrowed his eyes, wiggled his feet apart for balance. Carefully, slowly, she drew her arms out from behind his back, hands separate and fingers folded over her palms. Jayne took a breath, soap stink thick in his nose, and watched her turn her hands up, flinched as she opened her fingers.

Wash's go se toys lay in her palms, splashed with dried blood. Brown flakes decorated River's finger tips. The toy with the long neck was in two bits. Its feet had melted.

"I can't fix them," River said. "The glue eludes me."

Doc'd hidden all the solvents months ago, trying to keep River from gluing the airlock shut again. Jayne glanced up, and she blinked up at him, crazy flickering at the edges of her calm. Jayne knew from fong luh. She was as good as she was gonna get tonight. He looked back at the toys in her hands.

"I'll root out its hiding place," Jayne said, circling around to River's left. River drifted his direction, keeping him in sight. "You meet me in the kitchen."

River nodded, closing her hands over Wash's toys. She hugged her fists against her chest, and turned in a circle. Her feet made no noise against the flooring. Jayne took his hand off his pistol, and followed her out.

  
 _Glossary:_

Fong luh: Loopy in the head  
Go se: Dog shit  
Go hwong-tong: Enough of this nonsense.  
Hwoon dahn: Bastard  
Tong Meng: Alliance  
Tzao-gao: Damn it  
Wo shang mei er, mei xin, bian shi tou: I will close my ears and my heart and I will be a stone


End file.
